


Mycaruba

by KittyGodspeed118



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Detective Noir, Genderfluid Arin Hanson, M/M, Mycaruba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6443800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyGodspeed118/pseuds/KittyGodspeed118
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective N.S. Grump has worked his way up in the ranks as the best private investigator in his field. The day starts out as a normal Monday until a mysterious girl with black hair and a blonde streak stands in front of him with a picture of convicted felon who calls himself 'Mycaruba'. This case is the one that could make or break the young detective's career. *cue Out of This World theme music*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycaruba

**Author's Note:**

> I had a huge fucking 20's detective noir dictionary open while I wrote this, so the lingo's weird for authenticity's sake

The day started out the way most days did in cloudy Brooklyn. Detective N.S. Grump, Daniel Avidan sat at his desk, flipping through manila folders. He took a puff of his cigarette, crawling in his skin for a new case to keep him occupied. As the #1 private detective in the city, he was usually drowning in cases to solve. Yet, on the rainy Monday morning, his office was empty and the phone didn't ring. He leafed through a newspaper, praying for some mystery to call his name. The boredom was eating at him as he puffed smoke from one of his many cigarettes.

"May I come in," a sultry voice asked, hardly louder than the creak of the office door.

Dan looked up, surveying the black haired woman who stood against the door frame. His eyes were drawn to the single yellow streak among the midnight black waves of hair. The woman nodded to him in place of greeting before striding to the desk. Her long black dress hugged her many curves as if it were made especially for her. Her gloves came up most of her arms, giving a sense of mystery to the history of her hands. She was beautiful, sure, but Dan knew better than to let looks fool him.

"I hear you do private investigations," she said, her brown eyes glowing with mystery.

"I do," the detective replied, well-guarded. "Would you like to have a seat?"

"I haven't the patience for sitting, Mr. Avidan."

"Suit yourself, then," he shrugged, puffing smoke before looking the lady over.

She reached into her bra, causing Dan to immediately point his revolver at her. She smirked as if she expected as much. She pulled out a photo of a peculiar looking man. He had a smile on his pale pink face and his head was similar in shape to a potato. Dan nodded, a grin working its way onto his unshaven face.

"Will you help me find him then," the woman persisted. "I'd be awful grateful if you found him for me."

"What do you want with Mike?"

"He's a helpful asset on my team, is all."

"How can I trust you? A dame walkin' in here with a picture of an escaped prisoner asks for my services without even sitting or introducin' herself seems awful shady if you ask me."

"Ariel Hanson. Now you've got my name. How about it? You could make quite a bit of money if you help me out. Those doe eyes tell me you won't turn me down."

"I'll take the case," Dan replied, a little too excitedly. "I'll give you my card in case you need to call. I'll let you know what I find."

"I'm coming with you," Ariel protested, leaning on the desk.

"Are you crazy? You think finding a dangerous giant like Mike Aruba is gonna be a walk in the park? No can do, toots."

"I'm a lot more resourceful than you think," she purred, holding up Dan's pistol.

"How did you...?"

"Look, you could use a strong female in your corner. Whaddya say," she asked, holding out a hand to him.

"Alright, fine. But you better not get in the way of me solvin' this case or it's straight to the slammer for both you an' Mike, ya hear me?"

"Loud and clear. Now, the BPD is expecting us. We shouldn't keep them waiting," Ariel said, already heading out the door.

"Woah, now, slow down. We're taking my car. I'm driving."

"It's hard to drive without your keys," she taunted, holding up a pair of keys and grinning.

Dan groaned, feeling around in his pockets and rolling his eyes. He reluctantly stood, following after her. The dame was entertaining for sure, but he wouldn't dare tell her that. She was suspicious through and through. They walked outside to a small blue Corola. Dan snatched his keys back, unlocking the door and getting in.

"Listen, toots," Dan began, looking over at her. "You plannin' on seducin' the fuzz into gettin' us a peek at the crime scene?"

And that earned the detective a slap to the face. Ariel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Dan sat dumbstruck, putting another unlit cigarette to his lips.

"What the hell do ya take me for?" she demanded, looking out the window. "You think I'm some sorta hussie that just lifts her skirt for any ol' person I gotta get past?"

"Sorry. That was awful rude of me."

"It's fine. Just don't make an ass o' yourself just yet. We just met."

Dan grumbled to himself, starting the car and driving towards an abandoned apartment complex. Ariel got out of the car, greeting a short man with a mustache.

"And where do you think you're going," the small officer asked.

"She's with me, Kramer," Dan insisted, holding up his badge. "We wanna take a look at Mike's handy work."

Reluctantly, the polieman moved aside and lifted up the crimescene tape. In the center of the first floor hallway was a limp body with its head almost clean off. The sight of it made Dan gag, but Ariel's face remained neutral as she examined the corpse.

"This was definitely Mike's doing," she observed, kneeling down to get a closer look.

"What makes you so sure," Dan asked, standing a safe distance away from the body.

"He loves snappin' necks. He's a big guy. It's easy to grind bones to dust with those mongoloid hands of his."

"Of course. I shoulda known," Dan replied, rolling his eyes.

"The blood trail's cold. We should see if Barry knows anything about where Mike is heading."

"Barry?"

"That's his name, isn't it?"

"Officer Kramer. He's not our friend. Don't get all soft on me, toots."

"Maybe if you weren't a jackass, he'd be more willing to let us look at the evidence."

Barry leaned in the doorway, carefully watching the two quietly discuss things. The hushed whispers only grew louder as they argued about the integrity of proper titles and appropriate ways to treat annoying goody two shoes cops like Officer Kramer.

"You two done barberin' around my crime scene or can the professionals get back to work," Kramer asked, obviously agitated as he wiggled his mustache at the duo. "I'll find any reason I can to put a pair o' bracelets on the two of ya."

"Now, we'll breeze off as soon as we're done. Cool it," Dan shot back, not bothering to look up from the body. "Don't make threats about burnin' powder if you don't need to. We're all friends here."

Barry pulled Dan aside, gesturing for him to lean down due to the height difference between them.

"So, you get bored gettin' house calls or are you dizzy with the dame here," Barry asked with a smirk.

"She needed help an' I needed a case. You got a deck on you? I'm runnin' low-"

"She's wearin' glad rags to a crime scene? She a pro skirt," Barry asked curiously, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and handing one to Dan.

"Don't know. If she is, I doubt her rates are cheap. She's a real gunner, you know. And anyway, she's not my meat. Mike is."

"What the hell does a doll like her want with Mike?"

"She won't tell me," Dan groaned in frustration.

"You trust her?"

"Don't talk nonsense. I don't trust anybody. If she's as dangerous as I think she is, you'd better keep two cells ribbed up back in the joint for both her and Mike. Hit me on the horn if you find anything. We're headin' to the morgue. Savvy?"

"Alright. There's a fresh stiff waitin'. Keep your nose clean, alright?"

"Will do."

Ariel followed after Dan, waving to the officer on the way out.

"Old friend," Ariel asked, sitting down in the car.

"Kramer? More or less. We go back a ways."

She nodded, slipping her hand into Dan's pocket and taking a cigarette. She raised an eyebrow expectedly, waiting for him to light it for her.

"The deck of luckies are for me. Smokin' ain't ladylike," Dan grumbled, reluctantly lighting it.

"Says who? I got a lady's figure but I get down an' dirty the way a girl should," she shot back, blowing smoke into his face. "Buy me a drink, hm?"

"You mean, eel juice?"

"No, I mean water. What; you got lead in your ears? Yes, I mean liquor. I haven't had a drink in a few days now. It's a crime for a girl to go that long without her alcohol."

"Fine, ya crazy broad. I hope you can hold your liquor, 'cause I ain't the type o sit there an' hold your hair back when you yack up your lunch."

"You underestimate me then, detective. Buy me a scotch and maybe I'll let you walk me home," she mused, smirking.

He rolled his eyes and starting the car. He paused, a look of confusion and contemplation taking over.

"Wait here," he ordered, grabbing his gun from the dashboard and opening the door.

He walked towards the building, hands deep in the pockets of his coat. Barry caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and tried his best to dart back inside. To no avail, Dan pushed him against the wall with his gun pointed at the officer's chest.

"You make a phonecall a little while ago, Kramer?" Dan demanded, his gaze cold.

"I don't know what you're talking ab-"

"Cut the crap. I know you're working for Mike. Give me an address before I stick you full o' lead."

"You don't wanna do this, Danny," Barry pleaded. "You already got enough blood on your hands!"

"This ain't about me, Kramer. I want an address now! Start squealin' or I'll shoot."

"You know I can't say anything or I'm dead."

"You're dead either way."

Bang. The sound of the gunshot startled Ariel, who was sitting in the car. Officer Kramer slid down the grimy brick wall, eyes wide as if still in shock. His blood seeped through his tidy uniform, leaving a bright red mark among the blue and gold police badges. Dan rummaged through Barry's pockets, pulling out a small sheet of paper and slipped his revolver back into his pocket, walking briskly back to the car. He calmly started the engine and drove down the alley.

"I got an address," he said simply.

"Alright, we'll call it a night and pick up again tomorrow. We'll take a rain check on that drink," Ariel said, kissing his cheek and getting out of the car.

"Goodnight, Detective."

"Night, Hanson."

Later that night, Dan sat at his desk, downing entire bottles of scotch. None of the clues added up. What did Ariel want Mike for? What could she possibly benefit from working with him? Dan groaned, running his fingers through his wild curly hair. Hours went by and still he thought, sitting and racking his brain.

"Fuck it!" He growled, throwing the scattered papers off of his desk.

He was so used to solving cases on the fly. His skill betrayed him as he sat on the floor of his cramped office. He racked his brain and ran his fingers through his hair. At roughly 2:00 A.M., he bolted from his chair and yanked his trench coat on. He had to get to Ariel before Mike did. Her life depended on it. He sprinted down to his car, driving at full throttle. Every red light made his grip tighter around the steering wheel and every pedestrian who leisurely crossed the street just provoked his road rage. Finally, he pulled up to Ariel's small apartment building and launched himself up the stairs as far as his legs would carry him. He gasped, finding the door open upon his arrival. Ariel's body was sprawled on the floor.

"Ariel! What-"

"H-hey, detective," she choked, blood dripping from her lips as she tried to smile. "Look at us; couple o' misfits did alright, huh?"

"I wasn't fast enough, dammit! I'm sorry-"

"Shh," she hushed softly, pressing a weak finger to his lips. "He didn't get away without some lead in 'im," she laughed, pointing to blood stains in the carpet.

"I'll try an' get you to a hospital-"

"I'm not gonna make it, sugar. It's alright. Mike's probably dead. We did it. I've made my peace, Detective. T-thanks a million-"

"Don't talk nonsense, Hanson, we can get you outta here!"

"Look at those doe eyes," she breathed, her smile still as bright as ever. "Keep your nose clean for me...stay outta trouble."

Dan's eyes filled with tears as he sat over Ariel's body. He wasn't even sure if it was romantic, but damn, this hurt like hell. He pressed a cigarette to his lips and stood up, dialing on the phone for an ambulance. He was the only man who came to see her buried. Being a dynamite gal doesn't mean people like you. Dan knew that for sure. Still, he got the privacy he needed to say goodbye to one hell of a dame, Ariel Hanson.


End file.
